The Tale of a Thousand Books
by CelticMargarita
Summary: After a night of drinking Hermione awakes only to find herself married to her best freind's brother. HGFW, HPGW, GW?, AJPW, BWGD and many many more
1. Chapter 1

Emaleneangel: Me back, and me not own.

Hermione's POV

It had been over three years since I had taken a vacation, so when my bosses decided to hold team-building convention in Las Vegas I wasn't going to complain. Although we did attend the daily classes where we helped others climb through nets and over walls without magic, it obviously wasn't on the top of anybody's priority list. The majority of my colleagues showed up hung-over. I, on the other hand, had decided to remain mentally fit during the sessions. If I was going to become an ambassador by the age of thirty I needed all the extra boosts I could get against the competition. So before I had even stepped off of the plane there I had decided that, although I would be a good girl, the last night was mine.

I hadn't planned on getting drunk and not remembering a good portion of it. Infact the whole thing had started innocently enough with a Celine Dion concert. I know most of my friends, at least the muggle-born ones, would probably disown me if they found out my obsession for the Canadian superstar, and really who could blame them? She's supposed to be for soccer moms and women who read cheesy Romance novels because they have no job and their husbands ignore them. Anyway, after the show I went to some popular club that my friends had been bragging about, and while I was there I think some repressed part of me snapped because as soon as I ordered the first drink I couldn't stop.

That's when things began to get a bit fuzzy. But I couldn't have done anything that bad. I mean, even drunk as an Irishman I'm still Hermione Granger. At least that's what I thought until I woke up the next morning and felt warm arms wrapped around my naked stomach.

My first reaction was to jump and screech, which was bad because it led to me falling out of the bed and I had one hell of a hangover. The man in my bed appeared to have over imbibed as well because he simply groaned at my shriek but didn't move. Then I took a look around from my squatting position on the floor and realized that I wasn't in my hotel at all and screeched again. It wasn't that I was a virgin or something, I just wasn't accustomed to spending the night with men that I didn't know the name of.

I slowly pulled myself off of the plushly carpeted floor, wrapping a sheet around me as I stood. As soon as I looked at him my hands flew to my mouth in order to suppress a sob. Fiery red hair and a back that looked like it had been attacked with freckles. I stood there like that for a few moments before my brain seemed to catch up with my eyes.

'This is Ron,' I thought to myself. 'I'll just tell him that nothing happened.' Of course I knew that I was lying to myself. Articles of my clothing had been randomly tossed throughout the room. My silk panties were twirling around the ceiling fan for Merlin's sake. But Ron would believe me and I could go back to lying to myself.

I leaned forward to prod the side of the man who had spent the night beside, and most likely inside, me. That's when I realized with a shock that he wasn't Ron at all. No his hair was a bit longer and his shoulders were wider. But that wasn't the worst part.

No it was that I still had no idea who was laying there, sprawled out like a dead man. So without any other course open I poked him. "George?... Fred?" I tried again.

?'s POV

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I awoke the next morning to someone calling my name. I wasn't quite awake enough to wonder where I was or whose raspy voice had brought me back into consciousness. I only knew that my body was splendidly gloriously relaxed in such a way that only a night of intense shagging could have provided. So without a second thought I turned around to kiss the woman who was currently prodding my ribs with her fingers. Although I probably should have realized something was wrong when she didn't respond to my kiss it wasn't until she shoved me away with a resounding, "Eeep," that I even opened my eyes.

For a second everything was blurry, and then both my vision and my pounding headache began to come into focus. I wasn't sure which caused me to swear first. I stared at the mass of hair that could normally house a small family of gnomes but was beyond gigantic post-coital. "Hermione?" I gasped. Yes I, Fred Weasley, actually gasped. But, honestly, I had just been woken up by my brother's ex-(and quite naked under her sheet from the look of it)-girlfriend. I wanted to say something reassuring, or at least one of my witty trade mark responses but my mother's words kept on running through my head, "if you don't watch your liquor Fred your going to wake up one day married to a stripper," extra venom on the 'stripper.' Well fate had gotten part of it right, even if it had been the least interesting part. It was the only piece of advice that she had given solely to me and not as a two for one lecture, which George and I could later laugh about. Finally I just covered my eyes and growled. "Close the fucking curtains, will you?"

"Honestly," I could feel a lecture happening but at least she proceeded to do as I asked. "This isn't a time to bloody swear. Fred, George, whoever you are." At that I couldn't prevent a smile from spreading across my face. She didn't know who I was. "Oh so you think that's funny do you?" I could feel her bouncing back and forth from hysteria. Her voice cracked and changed like a pendulum on speed. It was such a golden opportunity that I couldn't prevent myself from saying what I did next.

"I'm Fred? Or am I George? Who knows?"

"If you do not tell me you're name right now," she said. This time her voice was like a string that was being pulled unbelievably taut. It was raspy and damn sexy, but I finally found my common sense and decided it would be better not to piss her off anymore. "And I mean RIGHT NOW, I will not be responsible for my actions."

"I'm Fred."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm bloody sure." With that she sighed and sank down into a chair across from me. "So what happened?" I asked.

"Well I should think that would be obvious." I rolled my eyes.

"I meant before that."

She turned to face me, raising her head from her hands. "Believe it or not I don't remember." She said it with a smile, almost as if she was proud of the fact that she had gotten trashed. Great! Why did I have to be around the one time that Granger decided to let loose. "By the way," she started, interrupting my thoughts, "where are we?"

"My hotel room." Her eyes signaled for me to continue. "George and I arethinking about opening a store here. There's a rather large wizarding community in Las Vegas."

"I'd believe it," she muttered. "By the way, where is George?" As if the fates were taking a perverse pleasure at listening into our conversation I heard the automatic lock on the door click open. We both stared in horror as first one foot entered, then another, then an entire George Weasley.

"Hey Fred. I got some breakfast since you were pretty messed-up yesterday and from the way it sounded through the wall you weren't alone." If he hadn't of ordered me breakfast I would have cursed him out for being so damn chipper, but George always had been able to hold his liquor better. I watched with some sick sort of pleasure as he took the final step that would reveal Hermione. "Oh I see that you still do have company. Hi, my name is George. I'm the cuter twin."

"Do you say that to every girl?" scowled Hermione. I smirked as I watch my brothers face change from flirtatious to puzzlement to outright shock. Although my family has always been teased about our last name the truth was that none of us look even remotely like a weasel. Charlie's always been a lizard, Ginny, a parakeet, and Ron, a horse. But George has some movements that are quite reminiscent of a squirrel. So when he saw Hermione and I in the positions that we were in I wasn't at all surprised when he scampered back, his wrists flying to his face but his finger tipsstill extended away from his body. "Her…her...her…" he attempted.

"Oh, honestly, George. I know that you didn't graduate but you should at least be able to pronounce my name." My brother then turned to me.

"Nasty piece of work you got there, Fred." I laughed when Hermione's jaw tightened and then decided I had better change the subject.

"So what are we going to do?"

"Nothing. I mean, no one has to know except for the two… I mean three of us.

Oh God," she groaned. "I'm so late. What is my boss going to think?" Only Hermione would worry about her job when waking up with, if not a total stranger, a long-time acquaintance. But overall I thought that her plan was pretty good. George seemed to have other ideas, however.

"It may be a bit presumptuous, but would I be wrong if I presumed that you werein a similar state to my brother yesterday?"

"And what state was Fred Yesterday?"

"Stumbling, singing obnoxiously, uttering horrible pick-up lines."

"Then you would be correct."

"Um Hermione, look at your left hand." She followed his advice and the first thing she did was groan like she was constipated. Then she raised her hand and I saw the sparkle on her ring finger.

"Oh Fuck."

Fred's POV

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We had been eating silently for a good half an hour. After the revelation we really hadn't been in the mood to talk. I watched as Hermione buttered her toast. Her knife had long since spread the condiment over the bread but she continued to swipe the silver utensil absently. I carelessly stirred lumps of sugar into my coffee. George tried to mask his amusement with plates and food but I could see it in the way he arched his eyebrows. Finally he turned to me and broke the silence. "So how do you feel?" he asked, sympathetically. I didn't think my face muscles were working enough to glare properly so I left the sarcasm behind.

"I feel like I've had a broom stick shoved up my butt and out my ear. Repeatedly." To my surprise Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Well from what I heard yesterday night that may well have happened."

Hermione glared at my brother and I sighed. She must really not know George because nothing is more likely to make him continue teasing than a challenge, even one issued by something as subtle as glance. Suddenly his voice changed to an off-key imitation of hers. "Oh Freddie, you be the rabbit and I'll be the Elephant. ROAR." This time when she blushed her face became as red as my hair, which if you think about it is sort of fitting. I mean, now that she's a Weasley she should possess our infamous red in one way or another.

"Anyway," George continued. "If your head hurts so much why don't you just perform the charm?" If I wasn't afraid that my head would explode I would have slammed it down onto the table.

"Do you mind doing it for me? I don't know where my wand is at the moment."

George chuckled but put both Hermione and me out of our misery.

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Hermione's POV

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After George performed his charm I was able to think again for the first time in what seemed like centuries. I also realized how stupid I was with a hangover and resolved never to have one again. Smiling I turned to the twins. "I've got it." They looked at me and then exchanged glances as if to say, 'she's back.' I chose to ignore them. "Don't you see? Nothing has to change. We don't have to tell anybody. We can just go home and file for an annulment." Then I remembered the clothe-less state in which I had awoken, "or maybe in this case a divorce. I know that it might get a bit complicated but I AM in the Ministry so…" Ok so I didn't have that big of a job at the ministry, I KNEW that I didn't have that big of a job at the ministry, but I WAS in the process of lying to myself.

"Whoa, slow down Hermione," said Fred, reaching out and grasping my hands. I looked up at him. It was the first time he had touched me the entire mourning. "What do you mean? It's perfect!"

"There's a few things you haven't taken into consideration," George continued for his brother. "First of all you weren't married in England so you'd have to deal with international law. Secondly, do you even know where you were married?" Fred and I looked at each other and shook our heads. "You can't very well get divorced if you don't know where you were married."

"And how would YOU know all of this anyway?" I knew I was being nasty when he was only trying to be helpful, but goddamit, why couldn't he just say what I wanted him to?

"He's in charge of all the business transactions at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes," said Fred.

"So?"

"Well since a lot of it deals with contracts and such I've decided to get my IMLL," George finished for his brother. My eyes widened a little as he said it. IMLL stood for International Magical Law License.

"Oh congratulations." I couldn't prevent myself from hugging him. "I haven't graduated yet," he laughed and for a moment everything was back to normal. Then I had to talk again.

"But back to the problems you mentioned; we can deal with those. We can find out where we were married, and I'm in the department of International Co-operation so that shouldn't be a problem." Fred simply stared at the wall and George continued to shake his head. "What! What aren't you telling me?" I was looking at George but it was Fred that answered.

"We can't get divorced." At that my body finally did what it had been threatening to do since I had first sat down. I fell out of my chair. For a second I just laid there, hoping that the plush carpet would somehow envelope me. Luck, unfortunately, has never been on my side.

"What do you mean we can't get divorced?" I enunciated, pretty sure that my face was twitching.

"We can, just not for a year." At that I slammed my head against the leg of the table. It took a couple moments of breathing exercises but I was finally able to look at them again. George once again picked up where Fred had left off. Even in my state I couldn't help but notice how professional he sounded, and how much like Dumbledore.

"As you know divorce is very popular amongst muggles. The thing that they don't know about marriage is that there is a great deal of magic involved in the ceremony, even if none of the participants posses a drop of magical blood. And you know how the Ministry is when wizards don't take magic seriously. By the way, how do you not know about this?

"Like I go around researching random topics," I snorted. Both Fred and George stared at me. "Fine I do, but I wasn't scheduled to read An Appraisal of Magical Marriages for another three months." I ignored the obsessive eye-rolling.

"Anyway," George continued. "marriage rites, at least in countries of Anglo-Saxon influence, which the US is, have their marriage laws based on ancient Pagan Handfasting ceremonies. Basically every year the couple involved either renews their vows or goes their separate ways. Thus if you want to get divorced the day you got married…"

"You have to be married for a year before you can actually do it."

"You could always claim that he beat you…"

"How could you even say that?" I asked. For a moment it was silent. Then, "But we can just not tell anyone, right? I mean, nothing will change." I looked up at them

plaintively, begging them not to say what I was pretty sure they would, because even then I think that I knew it was a lost cause.

"You know the papers will find out about it. It isn't that George or I are THAT successful. But you know that they haven't had anything to write about since Voldemort was defeated. Who am I kidding, they never had anything to write about." I turned to Fred. He had always been one of the few people raised in the wizarding community that hadn't been afraid to say that name. That fact had always made me respect him in a way I doubt I would have otherwise.

"So what do we do then?" I asked my husband.

"We'll have to tell my family at least. I don't know if yours is in touch with the magical world." I shook my head in response. "I can't even imagine what Mum would do if she read it in the paper first, but I'm guessing that you wouldn't have to worry about a divorce."

"How long do you think we have before they find out?"

"A week, tops."

"So I should probably stop over for dinner in a few days."

"Yeah, it just kills me that she was right though."

"Who was right about what?" I asked Fred, but once again George answered. I loved them both but this was just getting annoying.

"Mum predicted that he would get drunk and wake up married to a stripper."

"Oh, so is that what you think of me Fred?"

"Ooh, Freddiekins, if you don't watch it you'll be sleeping on the couch."

"No he'll be sleeping in HIS house. Speaking of home I'd better go. I've already missed the plane so I had better dissaparate." Ever since the attack on the Twin Towers wizards traveling in large groups had been forced to enter and exit America the non-magical way so as to not confuse security guards and the CIA. "I'll call you tomorrow." Fred nodded. I leant down and kissed them both on the forehead before I grabbed my clothes and left for my hotel room.

Emaleneangel: so there's chapter one again. The best is yet to come


	2. Chapter 2

Emaleneangel: Me not own.

Hermione's third year at Hogwarts, and Fred's fifth.

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_Hermione hurried to her class. One would think that with a time turner she would __make it to every class on time but the thirty minute turn the ministry had approved for her __use couldn't be used to cover up the fact that she had fallen asleep in the common __room. It didn't help that her only friends weren't talking to her and that she was falling __behind on her grades. _

_As she turned the corner her foot hit a crack in the tile and everything she had __been carrying went flying down the corridor. She pushed herself up, grabbed the book __closest to her and slammed it down the ground. Tears began to spring from her eyes, as __she sat there, hugging herself. It was simply too much. _

_Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching, and raced to grab her things before __the person arrived. The only thing worse than crying in the middle of the hallway was __having someone see her crying in the middle of a hallway. But she wasn't quick enough __and was forced to keep her head down as she grabbed a book from an outstretched hand. _

_The person didn't seem to take the hint, however, because he didn't continue on his __merry way. _

"_Is everything ok Hermione?" he asked. She didn't even have to look up to know __who the speaker was, the F's on his shoes revealed that to her._

"_Yes, yes. Oh no it isn't!" she wailed once again slamming her books against the __ground._

"_Well that was a bit counterproductive," he said, winning a snorted laugh from __her. He knelt down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to tell __me about it?"_

"_There's just so much to do. It's almost funny, miss Know-it-all Granger has __overreached herself. My homework seems to be reproducing. It wouldn't be so __bad if Ron and Harry were talking to me, but they aren't so my life has become one __gigantic to-do list." She still couldn't believe that she was confiding in anyone, least of __all Fred Weasley but it only went to show how desperate she was. _

_"I'm sorry. But as you said you are Hermione Granger so if anyone can deal __with this it's you. And if you can't you could always drop a class." She looked up at him _

_in horror. "Or maybe not. But I'm sure Ron and Harry will come around. They're __just being stubborn but they'll return to you soon enough."_

_"I wouldn't be so sure. It's been months now since I had a decent conversation __with either one of them."_

_"Look, I don't know you that well, but what I do know from the simple fact that __you are able to look past some of Ron's more jerkish qualities is that you're a good __friend. So just be patient." With that he smiled comfortingly and held out his hand for __her. She wiped her eyes one more time and then allowed him to help her up._

_"Thanks Fred. But if I'm a good friend you're certainly a good person." Fred __felt himself blush partly because of her compliment and partly because of the sincerity of __her smile._

_"Well I had better get to Quidditch Practice," he said and then quickly walked __off. Hermione decided not to mention that the Quidditch Field was closed on Tuesdays. _

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Hermione's POV

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I returned to work two days later. I know that most people hate Monday mornings but I couldn't help but smile every time the hustle and bustle of a fresh week at the Department of International Co-operation enveloped me. Colleagues waved good- morning. Extrinsic smells filled the air. Papers covered the surface of my desk, threatening to spill over if I didn't begin work immediately.

Three cups of coffee later I was engrossed in a particularly complex profit list from a small company that sold exotic pets. My job was basically to go through reports that businesses gave us and make sure that they weren't cheating on their taxes or committing other crimes that would normally be lost in the chaos of international trade. I know it sounds boring, and a lot of times it can be, but I love the idea that I can catch a criminal simply using my mind. Plus, t's the only path to promotion and I work better with a positive attitude. As for the case I was working on at the moment, it didn't take a genius to figure out that kittens, even Egyptian ones, don't cost two-hundred galleons a piece.

"So how's it going, Hermy dear?" asked a relaxed voice. I turned around to find my boss, a Mr. Lloyd C. Abbott (and you always had to use the C when you wrote out his name), eating a hoagie (don't ask me how he gets them in England but he does seem to have an endless supply) and staring down my shirt. I actually have a lot of bosses but regretfully he was the one that I reported to.

"Fine Mr. Abbott." I felt his hand gliding around on my back and found myself glad for the first time that I was married even if the situation WAS temporary. Only a few more days and I wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit again. As it was I grabbed a random file and bit my lip as his hand traveled even lower. "I was wondering about these numbers…" I said, as I accidentally pointed to a sheet that contained only text. I silently cursed. Mr. Abbott didn't seem to notice, however. He leaned in closer and could feel his breath against my ear, the smell of Jack Daniel's traveling to my nostrils.

"So Hermy, How about tonight you and I—" But before he could finish whatever grotesque proposal he was about to make he was interrupted.

"Abbott, get over here and finish your work!" Suddenly the large sleaze-ball became a stuttering fool.

"Yessir, right away Mr. Weasley." And with that he left me alone. I turned to the man who had prevented an awkward conversation from becoming downright horrid. Percy Weasley sure had changed over the past few years. Not physically, but ever since his dad had almost died saving his life in my sixth year he had become, if not laid-back, than at least less anal and someone you could talk to without wanting to shake senseless.

"Thank-you," I mouthed to him, and he smiled in return. I found myself hoping that he'd still be as nice in a couple days if Mr. Abbott continued to be an ass. And, ok, I know what you're thinking: I, Hermione Granger, should have more self respect than to let a man handle me like that, but I have plans. Once I'm Mistress of Magic Mr. Lloyd C. Abbott is going to have one hell of a time finding a job anywhere, and that's IF he manages to get rid of the curse I'm going to put on him.

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Fred's POV

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I love my job, even if owning my own business means that it is a twenty-four hour a day thing. Honestly what sane person wouldn't revel in 'creating smiles' (it's our slogan and not something I invented. But what can I say? It sells.)? But although I love inventing things my favorite part is watching the kids play with them for the first time. Their little faces adopting pig snouts or bunny ears as they burst out into laughter. I mean I'm a Weasley, one of seven kids, it's like in my blood to like children. I probably would have become a teacher if it didn't mean having to like school, or as Hermione oh so politely pointed out the other day, graduating.

"Hey! Give it back." I turned to find three post-pubescent boys dangling a bag above a petite Indian girl. Could someone please explain to me why bullies always travel in groups of three?

"First we want to see if there's anything good in here," said one of the goons. The three of them proceeded to search through the goody bag I had sold her only a few minutes earlier. Stepping out from behind the counter I removed my smock (Ok, so most smocks aren't cool but I had pineapples dancing on mine).

"Hey," I shouted. "Give the girl back her candy and apologize."

The ringleader simply sneered at me but I could see the fear in the other boys' eyes. "Oh and why should I?" One of his cronies leaned over and hissed in his ear.

"Chris, that's Fred Weasley." I smiled as the kid's eyes widened in shock and horror. I know it was sort of sick but I kind of reveled in the power that I seemed to have over the next generation wizards.

"That's right, now do it and if I ever hear of you bullying someone like this again I'll ban you all from the store for the rest of your pitiful lives." At that a few ears perked up, doubtless other victims of this particular gang. Beside me I heard stifled laughter but decided that I would deal with the perpetrator in a moment.

"You wouldn't?" but he was practically shaking as he said it. I simply nodded.

He thrust the bag into the girl's hands and muttered, "Sorry." He then fled the store, his two friends only steps behind. The girl shyly looked into her treasure trove of goodies and the shop returned back to normal.

It was then that I turned to have it out with the adult that had been laughing at me only to find that it had been my younger brother. Sometime I would have to find out how he had managed to enter the store without me noticing.

"I'm sorry, you just looked so much like McGonagall," he replied wiping tears from his eyes.

"I'm in a good mood today so I'll choose to take that as a compliment, but promise you'll slap me if I start hmmphing like her."

"I promise."

"So what will it be for you today little bro?"

"I promised Nike that I'd stop by and buy your fantasia creams as soon as they came out. You know, you and George really shouldn't brag about your next big thing at family events. It makes it really hard for those of us with kids," but I could tell he was joking. He would buy Nike the world if he could.

"So is my little niece into playing pretend?" I asked, scooping a heap-load of pink, creamed filled candies into a bag. Fantasia creams were our newest invention. Pink ones turned the eater into a fairy, red, a past political figure, green, an animal, and blue, a monster.

"Like you wouldn't believe. Growing soft in your old age Fred?"

"And what is that suppose to mean?"

"Turning kids into fairies. No bleeding noses or engorged body parts?"

"And your point would be?"

"Nothing, but I think that Nike actually wanted the blue ones."

"Figures, but just so you know these things ARE for children six and up." No matter how many times I said that I still couldn't believe that THOSE words were coming from MY mouth.

"I told Nike that she can't use them unless I'm in the room." Ron had become an enigma in the past couple of years. Although he could be insufferably immature (did I just use insufferably? My wife's rubbing off on me even if we haven't spent a day together) he was also an amazing father. Luna Lovegood had named Ron Nike's godfather when the girl had been born four years ago, but I don't think even she expected him to actually have to fulfill his duties. Sadly she had died when Nike was only a few months old. You think with all the spells we have we would be able to cure something like cancer, but we were forced to sit back and watch her waste away.

It had been pandemonium when Nike had first come to live at the burrow (Ron had moved back home in an attempt to learn everything about being a parent as quickly as possible). To everyone's surprise, though, he had risen above and beyond the challenge and after a few short months Mom deemed that he was ready to give it a go on his own. The fact that Ron was a great parent might just be a fluke in his life of mediocracy but I think that it has something to do with immense ability to love (of courseI would never tell him that), and Ron couldn't have loved that little girl anymore if she was his own flesh and blood.

"Yo Ron!" I turned around to find my twin standing behind me in his disco-ball smock. It almost hurt to look at him, multi-colored lights flashing everywhere.

"Hey. Oh I almost forgot to ask you guys, how was Las Vegas?"

"Great," George answered for us. "It was an absolute blast, but not at all what we were expecting. But you know what they say, anything can happen in Vegas." I felt my hands slip as I wrapped the package. Ron simply laughed.

"Yeah. Hermione told me she was going to be in Las Vegas last weekend too, did you guys happen to see her?"

"No," I shouted just as George said, "Yes." Ron cocked an eyebrow.

"Fred was drunk, so it's no wonder he doesn't remember," George explained without missing a beat. Ron kept his brow raised but seemed to accept the explanation.

"I would have paid to see that. Fred pissed drunk around our dear perfectionist Hermione." At that I had to bite back a very black laugh. "But what about the store you two were looking into opening?"

"I think we'll do it but probably not til after I get my law degree."

I finally finished wrapping my niece's package and handed it to Ron. "Well I'll see you at Tuesday dinner." Tuesday dinner was the one official time when the entire Weasley family and all of our additions gathered at the burrow. When the door swung shut behind Ron I finally took the liberty to turn around, glare at George. When he simply smiled back I resolved that he wouldn't be able to eat a single piece of food for the next two weeks without using at least ten counter-hexes on it.

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Hermione's POV

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I had made up my mind to call Fred the moment that I got home, but it was a task easier said than done. I don't really know how long I sat there, staring at the fireplace waiting for some force of courage to bitch-slap me into taking action. Then, just as I had began to swish my wand for the sixth time, his head appeared.

"Hi, Hermione."

"Hi, Fred. Or is it George?"

"Really, not knowing your own husband's voice," he tssked. I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, is Tuesday night ok?"

"Ok for what." My husband's boggled brains were beginning to wear off on me and we hadn't even spent a day together.

"Telling the family."

"Oh, that's fine. But I was just wondering…"

"Yes Hermione Weasley?"

"Actually it's Hermione GRANGER-Weasley."

"What?"

"I found our marriage certificate and I kept my last name."

"You would. But what is it that you wanted to ask me?"

"It's just… I've known Harry and Ron forever, and I don't think it would be fair of me to let them find out along with everyone else. And as I'm having dinner with the two of them tonight I was wondering if I could tell them?" I finally took time to breathe.

"Sure."

"What!"

"You asked me if you could tell Ron and Harry…"

"…I know what I asked you I'm just surprised you agreed, that's all."

"Look, I understand where you're coming from. If George hadn't found out the way he had I probably would have told him." An image flashed into my head and I snorted. Unfortunately Fred heard me. "What's so funny?"

"It's nothing. I was just picturing what would have happened if it had been Ron not George who had discovered us."

"I'm pretty sure that he would have spontaneously combusted," he laughed in reply. "Oh and about Ron, make sure that he doesn't tell anybody. You know how he is with secrets."

"Yeah. There's two more things that I have to ask, though. First: we're telling your family the truth behind our marriage, right?"

"Of course. Mum may skewer me but she'll welcome you to the family regardless. You're practically part of it already. So what's the next one?

"I know I said that my family wasn't in touch with the wizarding world but I forgot that they receive the Daily Prophet and if our marriage is going to be in there it might be a good idea if we visit them in the next couple of days."

"Um, sure. What should I wear though? I've never met them. Seen them once or twice, but never met them."

"For good reason too," I muttered. "Just wear something without holes or funny quips written on it."

"Aww and I really wanted to wear my shirt about the drunk dentist who—"

"Fred!"

"I'm just joking. Anyway are we telling them the truth about our marriage?"

"I'm still deciding." As much as I didn't want to disappoint my dad the look on my mother's face would have been totally worth it.

"Should I not ask?"

"Yep." I looked one more time at the list I had written to make sure we had covered all of the topics. "Well, I think that's it so I'll see you on Tuesday."

"Yeah. Guess it's goodbye then."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye." For a good moment we just stared at each other before the fire faded into nothingness

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Hermione's POV

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Neither Ron or Harry were there when I arrived at the Leaky Caldron, which was both a relief and a hindrance. A relief because I had a few minutes to myself and a hindrance because there was nothing to keep me from running in the opposite direction. But instead of fleeing into the night I requested a table and ordered a glass of pumpkin juice. Sipping on it I looked around the restaurant. There was a family reunion of wizards a few feet away and a meeting of half-giants in the corner (the ceiling had been broken so that they could sit without having to bend down). I was so absorbed in people-watching that I didn't even notice that Harry had arrived until he waved a hand in front of me.

"Earth to Hermione," he said smiling. I put down my mug in order to stand up and hug him. After we were finished greeting each other we sat down and Harry signaled for the hunch-backed waiter to bring him a drink

"So how are classes going?" I asked him. He smiled. Harry always smiled when he talked about teaching. None of us were really all that surprised when he dropped his Auror training in order to teach Defense against the Dark Arts. After watching him create the DA in our fifth year I honestly would have been surprised if he had done anything else.

"It's been a little hectic lately with midterms coming up and all. But our house has one hell of a Quidditch team. Oh and I'm planning a trip to the Forbidden forest for my third years. I wanted to bring all of Gryffindor but McGonagall pointed out that that wouldn't be fair to the rest of the houses. I only wish that I could get the twins to focus a little more on school and less on blowing things up. Fred and George have had way too much influence on them." I should probably explain shouldn't I? McGonagall had taken over as Headmistress when Dumbledore had died at the end of our sixth year. It was a blow but we were all pretty sure that he was happy wherever he was.

Anyway, Harry being the only teacher who was originally from Gryffindor, had been asked to take over as Deputy Headmaster of the house. The twins were Percy's daughters, two girls with freckles and reddish brown hair who were giving their uncles a run for their money as Hogwart's premier pranksters.

"I'm planning on going to the next game," I said, not wanting to get into anything awkward before Ron arrived.

"That's great." There was a moment of silence. He looked at me to say something, and when I blanked out he continued. "So how was Las Vegas?"

"Oh it was great, great, simply…great." Shit, nay, double shit. I think he was beginning to realize that something was, if not wrong, then out of place because he looked at me quizzically. Luckily at that moment Ron decided to make an entrance.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he said tripping over stools. "Nike decided that it would be funny to scare the sitter by turning into a monster. I'm lucky I decided not to use a muggle service this time." Harry and I laughed then rose for another round of hugs.

"So what did I miss?" he asked when we were in our chairs again.

"Hermione was just telling me about her vacation," said Harry before I could maneuver the conversation in a different direction.

"Oh really?" asked Ron. He was breathing heavily as if he had just run a mile, and in all likely hood, he just had.

"Yeah. I was just telling Harry that it was… er… great." Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Cool. George and Fred said that they ran into you there." I looked at him, my mouth dropping open. Luckily he seemed to think my puzzlement was over the fact that he had seen Fred and George so recently. "I was at the store today," he explained.

"They said that they had seen me?" By this point Harry was watching our conversation with interest.

"Yeah. Well actually George said that they had and Fred said they hadn't, but it sounded like Fred was really messed up at the time," finished Ron.

"He wasn't the only one," I muttered.

"What?"

"Oh nothing," I replied. It was either now or never. "Um about Vegas. Something sort of happened there."

"Oh?" said Ron, seemingly concerned. But I was focused on the person to his right.

"What?" I asked Harry. He was wearing this gigantic grin that made me want to smack him.

"Nothing. I just have a feeling from the way you're fiddling with everything in sight that this is going to be rather interesting." I looked down at my hands and sure enough I was in the process of tearing a packet of sugar into pieces. If it hadn't of been for that comment I probably would have told him to lean forward in his chair when I broke the news. As it was I didn't.

"Fred and I got married." Sure enough Harry fell backwards, causing a few heads to turn. But it was Ron who really worried me. He hadn't moved, his hands were still holding a mug halfway between the table and his mouth, the same cheeky grin still upon his face. "Ron?" I asked, ignoring Harry as he pulled himself back up from the floor.

Ron turned to face me, but that was about it for a moment. "I'm still trying to figure out…" I had never heard his voice that monotone. Then, "WHAT!" he finally yelled to my relief.

"Fred and I got married."

"I hear it but it still doesn't make any sense." He turned to Harry. "Do you understand?"

"Give me a minute or two."

Ron turned back to me. "Are you pregnant?"

"What? NO!" Then I realized that I really had no idea. "At least I don't think so." I hadn't meant for those words to escape my mouth. Ron's face squished together in revulsion and Harry simply laughed.

"I don't understand," Ron continued elongating every syllable to a ridiculous degree. "How did this happen?" But Harry interrupted before I could answer.

"You see, Ronnikins, when to people love each other—"

"SHUT-UP!" both Ron and I screamed, causing a few people to stare.

I took a big breath and then began my explanation. "I got a bit wasted on my last night there. I really don't remember much after eleven o'clock, but the next morning Fred and I woke up next to each other." Once again Ron's face came together in disgust.

"Really Ron stop making that face. You of all people should know that I'm not a virgin." At that Harry laughed and I glared. "Anyway, we thought that we'd go back and just no tmention it to anybody. That was of course until George pointed out this," I said, pulling the offensive ring out of my pocket.

But Ron didn't seem to be interested in that. "Wait a sec, what was George doing in Fred's room when you woke up? Don't tell that you three..?"

"RON! Get your mind out of the gutter. Of course we didn't." By now Harry's sides were shaking. "Oh, so you think this is funny?"

"Immeasurably. Plus it's not like it caused any harm. You two will just get a divorce and everything will be back to normal." He didn't even have the decency to stop chuckling as he spoke.

"She can't," Ron interrupted. THAT got Harry's attention.

"What?"

"It's a wizarding rule. Couples have to take a year and try to work out their problems before they get divorced."

"Oh."

"That was pretty much my reaction," I said. "Only with a few more obscenities."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well, I'll be spending Tuesday night at the Burrow doing damage control. And we're going to tell my parents in a couple of days. As for the actual marriage, nothing, except for file for a divorce in a year. That said, you two can't tell anyone. And I mean anyone." They nodded. I glared at Ron.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"Because you can't keep a bloody secret," Harry answered for me.

"Of course I can."

"Just promise me Ron."

"I promise." Suddenly the left pocket of his robe began to glow red. He pulled out a small globe and looked at it for a second.

"Shit. I'm sorry, but I've got to go. The Slovenian keeper broke his arm trying out a new broom." Ron was a sports reporter for the Prophet. Besides Nike his job was the love of his life. He got to watch games from the best seats and discuss strategy with people who were as passionate about Quidditch as he was. We of course were all happy for him, even if our delight was a bit selfish. (He no longer went into random Quidditch tangents in our presence.)

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said leaning down to hug me goodbye, and slap Harry on the back. After he had dissaparated Harry stood up.

"Well I had better be going. I have an early day tomorrow and it's a bit of a trek from Hogsmede back to the castle." He was still chuckling as he said his good-bye.

"I'll see you soon," I said, and a few minutes later was left alone in the restaurant.

I sighed with relief, my task finally finished.


	3. Chapter 3

Emaleneangel: Familiar characters and situations belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

_Summer Before Hermione's Sixth year_

_"It won't roll!" said a very frustrated Hermione, slamming the rolling pin down to her side. Fred laughed as he popped another small clump of gingered dough into his mouth. "Don't laugh, this isn't funny."_

_"You're right we should be performing funeral rituals. The great Hermione Granger can't do something." She attempted to glare at him but felt her lips betraying her with a smile. "Here, I'll show you how to do it." They were alone in the kitchen. Fred was there because he had ruined yet another dinner and Mrs. Weasley wanted him to know how hard they were to make. Hermione, on the other hand, had been slaving away like a house-elf (she hated the comparison but she had to admit it was rather fitting) because Mrs. Weasley had almost had an apoplexy when she found out that she didn't know how to cook. _

_"Ok, watch what I do," said Fred, grabbing a large lump of dough. "Now you need to roll into a smooth circle. Make sure that you have plenty of flour on your hands." She proceeded to do as he said and wound up with a glob that somewhat resembled his orb. "Not bad," he laughed. "Now slap it down on the paper and roll it out into a nice sheet." Hermione tried but just like the time before she wound up with a doughy collection of hills and valleys._

_"See, I can't do it."_

_"We all know that you have repressed anger—"_

_"Haha, very funny."_

_"—But that's no reason to stab the dough with the rolling pin. Pick up the pin again." She did what he said, and to her surprise he moved behind her and wrapped his hands over hers. "Don't fight with the dough, coax it." The wood rolled smoothly over the sticky concoction, but Hermione really wasn't paying attention to the task at hand. Instead she was smelling the man behind her, cheap teenage cologne and butter. 'Merlin, if only Ron and Harry could hear me now. I really need a boyfriend if I'm mooning over Fred.'_

_"There, it's done." His voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Looking down she was surprised to find an even sheet in front of her. _

_"I did it," she squealed, and then impulsively turned and wrapped her arms around Fred, only to blush a second later when she realized what she had done and pull away._

_"Yeah you did. Hey you have some flour on your nose." But before she could wipe it off he lifted his hand to her face, and rubbed his thumb over her nose. _

_"You have flour on your hands."_

_He laughed. "It looks like it doesn't it?" But he didn't remove his hand and his hazel eyes softened. Years later she still wasn't sure if the next part actually happened or if she had wanted it to so badly that she remembered it that way. But in her memories his thumb moved slightly towards her cheek before his hand fell away. Her face suddenly felt cold. "Well we had better cut these guys out."_

_"Tell me again why we're making ginger bread men in the middle of the summer."_

_"I don't even pretend to understand my mother. I just follow the sergeant's orders." At that Hermione snorted._

_"Hermione," a voice interrupted. They spun around to find Ginny standing in the doorway. "Mum wants you and I for some girl talk." Hermione raised an eyebrow. Ginny sighed, "Don't ask, just follow." _

_Hermione turned to Fred. "Go, the leader summons you," he shooed her away. Both girls laughed and Hermione removed her apron. The truth was that he was glad to have her gone after what had happened a few moments. He felt awkward and a bit shaken. But all the same he couldn't help but smile when he heard Ginny pause in the hallway and ask, "Hermione why is there flour all over your face?" _

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Hermione's POV

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I had attempted to fall asleep upon arriving home but I couldn't stop thinking about what Ron had said. The little voices in my head paced around nervously (can voices pace?) as I stared at the ceiling. Finally I got out of bed and began to search through all of my books for a pregnancy detecting charm.

One wrecked apartment later I found myself sitting on the toilet, the only copy I had ever brought of Witch's Weekly in my hands. I stared at the paisley shower curtain for a couple of minutes before I finally got up the courage to point my wand at my abdomen, and mutter the charm.

For a moment nothing happened and then my belly began to glow steady white. I almost collapsed with relief. I wanted children someday, a whole herd of them, actually. But at the moment I also wanted a life.

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Fred's POV

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I arrived at the burrow late. Not because I had been busy and forgotten the event. In fact I had been pacing in front of my fire place for a good half an hour before I finally took out the floo powder. It was just that if I had arrived early people would have immediately grown suspicious.

Mum and Ron were in the kitchen together. I gave Mum a kiss on the cheek and then cocked an eyebrow at Ron to ask him what he was doing there (Ron is never in the kitchen if he can avoid it). He simply cocked an eyebrow back. I should have known he wouldn't make this easy.

"So who's all here?" I asked, grabbing a carrot from the counter, knowing that if I went for the cookies she'd shove a cleaver through my hand.

"Pretty much everyone. Your Dad's outside showing Bill, Charlie, and George this new thing he got called a Barbie-q. Or maybe it's a grill and you Barbie-q on it. I'm not really sure. Percy and Ginny are watching the kids play Quidditch. And Gabrielle, Lavinia, and Angelina are outside washing the apples for me. We're having pie tonight."

I smiled. Although it was an ongoing joke among the male members of the family that Mum would married off her sons to anyone for the extra help in the kitchen, it was clear that Mum loved each and every addition to her family (even if the youngest ones did get the most attention). Charlie had gotten hitched first to Lavinia Marchutia, a girl he had saved from a rampaging dragon in Romania. Supposedly it had been love at first sight but I know Ron, George, and I had been rather afraid to meet her. I don't remember what exactly we were scared of but the word unibrow comes to mind. Hey, I can't help it if most of the women I have met from the continent are extremely hairy. But she had been absolutely beautiful in this wispy sort of way, and although she possessed a certain regal air she was one of the nicest people I had ever met.

Then Angelina had come along. Although I'm pretty sure that the entire wizarding world had expected her to become a Weasely at one time or another, most of their predictions had surrounded George and myself, although a few adventurous souls had suggested Charlie or Ron. But Angelina and Percy, now that had been a surprise. Yet I think it was one of the best things that has ever happened to our family. Although Percy had grown up after dad's death scare it hadn't been until he had re-met Angelina that the stick had finally been removed from his arse once and for all.

And then there was Bill. He had created quite a scandal with his marriage. Not only was Gabrielle quite a few years his junior, but he had also just got over a messy break-up with her older sister, Fluer, when they had started dating. No one had thought it would last, but it had, and they now had two wedding rings and three children to show for it. (Honestly those French women are like machines.)

As I mentally finished the list I couldn't help but wonder if I should add myself to it. Nah.

I turned back to Mum. "Anyone else coming?"

"Just the usual additions."

"Hermione and Harry really should be here soon," said Ron, looking at his watch. "Oh, are those two are coming together?" She furrowed her brows together.

"What is it Mum?" asked Ron, indulgently.

"Well we really should try to get them together. I mean they'd be the cutest couple. That is if Harry isn't dating another one of those girls." Mum had never really liked Harry's girlfriends. Although I understood where she was coming from (most of them hadn't been able to string together a sentence, but even more importantly they had refused to help do the dishes) they had all been damn hot. Hey, every man needs to sow his wild oats before he ends up shackled. Especially because one never really knows when that is going to happen.

"No, Harry's not dating another one of THOSE girls, but what about Hermione? She might be involved with someone?" with that Ron looked pointedly at me. I stuck out my tongue as Mum placed some garnish on top of the lasagna. I was really going to have my work cut out for me over the next couple of weeks, having so many people's food to curse and all.

"She would have told me," Mum replied. "People always tell me about these sort of things, well everyone except my children." I suddenly pretended to find the window very interesting, and Ron had to suppress a snort.

"Well, I'm going to say hi to dad," I said, deciding it was time to leave. "Oh and Ron your girlfriend left a note for you at the store, but I forgot it. I'm really sorry." He simply sputtered.

"Ronald, why didn't you tell me that you had a girlfriend?"

As I was racing out to the back yard the last thing I heard was Ron protest, "Because I don't." Oh well, what was little lie if it kept me sane for a few more hours.

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Hermione's POV

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Harry and I entered the Burrow hand in hand. At least that's how it probably appeared to everyone else. In reality he had been forced to pull me through the fireplace. But no one else had to know that my Gryffindor courage was failing me.

"Hermione! Harry!" Mrs. Weasely said, setting down her knives and hugging us. "It's so good to see you again."

"You too Mrs. Weasley," I replied, wrapping my arms around her.

"Really, Hermione! How many times do I have to tell you that it's Molly now? You're not in school anymore."

"Does that mean I get to call you Molly too?" asked Ron. Mrs. Weasley…erm…Molly turned to glare at him.

"No you may not. And believe me I'm going to find out sooner or later," she hmmphed and then walked over to the counter. Harry and I exchanged glances and then sat down next to Ron.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked him softly.

"You know Hermione, if it weren't for you I would have already told Mum about Fred's Las Vegas Adventure."

"What did he do?" I asked.

"He told mum that I have a girlfriend," he exclaimed quietly. I unsuccessfully tried to smother a snort. "Maybe I should tell her anyway."

"No!" I shrieked, causing Mol… oh who am I kidding? Mrs. Weasley to turn around and look at us. "Please don't."

"A promise is a promise. Oh and I thought you might want to know," he said leaning into whisper, "She's vying to whip you up."

"What?" both Harry and I asked, perhaps a little too loud because Mrs. Weasley's head once again whipped around. After a few moments she went back to her cutting and Ron continued, this time a little clearer.

"She's trying," he moved his hands in emphasis, "to fix you up."

"Oh," I said, not being able to think of anything else.

"She does know that setting Hermione and I up would be like putting you and Ginny on a blind date?" I nodded in agreement

"I don't even attempt to understand how her mind works," said Ron, leaning back into his chair. "Just don't let her send you off to some obscure part of the house in order to find some random object. Chances are you'll find yourselves locked in a room together for the rest of the night."

I looked over at Harry. This was going to be a long night.

Emaleneangel: sorry that was so short, but that's how it naturally breaks up. The next ones are a lot longer.

Kat: Yeah, it has been a while.

Hyper Pearl Girl: Thanks. I'll update every three days or so until I get to knew chapters and then it will be every week. Oh, and I know I ask this a lot, but how did you get your name?

Searching4romeo: thanks so much for sticking with me.

Unread Letters: When I took it down I thought I was doing people a favor. I know when I get into a story and I find out that it's not finished and probably never will be it frustrates me immensely. I'm beginning to realize that I might have been wrong

Antaqui: here it is. And do you mind if I put your bully quote in my quote book?

R: I have something like the next fourteen chapters completed. It's a bit hard though because I can't remember everything I wanted to do.

Enygma: I remember you as Katelyn-black. As I said to Unread Letters: When I took it down I thought I was doing people a favor. I know when I get into a story and I find out that it's not finished and probably never will be it frustrates me immensely. I'm beginning to realize that I might have been wrong.

Jinger: What do you mean by written out? That I had completed it or it was getting boring?

MissKaitou: thank you (blushes)

Seghen: Yeah, not one of her best moments. Wink wink


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